


Tournant

by darkforetold



Series: Mirrors [7]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 11:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15885315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkforetold/pseuds/darkforetold
Summary: Another encounter between Jesse and Gabriel. This time, things turn out a little differently.He looked down at Reyes’ face. It wasn’t all hard lines and deep frowns, but an expression that—he’d never seen. Soft, even a little tender, maybe, with round pleading eyes. Needing him, right then, right there. Jesse could still feel his touch on his face, warm and bright, filling in his broken seams. It was enough to shift his panic into something else: a desperate need to please.Too bad they only had less than five minutes left.





	Tournant

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this one too so long! Real life and all that. Unbeta'd.

  


It’s a calculated risk, being in Gabriel Reyes’ office during normal working hours, alone. His commanding officer was nowhere to be seen, hadn’t been around for hours. Jesse leaned back in the chair behind the desk and waited. The sun streaked ribbons across the computer screen, the pens. The room stark and clean of any personal belongings. Completely Gabriel fucking Reyes.

Hours went by. Then, Jesse heard the electronic door lock click.

He pushed a button. Emergency notification sent to Jack Morrison, telling him that Reyes had triggered his personal alarm. Critical danger. It’d take Jack Morrison two seconds to excuse himself from his all-too-important UN meeting. Five minutes to cross the entire base to get to Gabriel’s room at a full-speed run. Maybe a minute to search and realize Reyes wasn’t in his room at all, then two more seconds for Morrison to decide to try Reyes’ office next. If Jesse were an optimistic man, he figured ten minutes in all for this entire batshit-crazy charade.

In the doorway, Reyes stared at him. Expression stoic as if Reyes had expected Jesse to turn up sooner or later. Jesse watched him step into the room, close the door, and stand there like a marbled god. And Jesse, with a shit-eating smile, put his feet up on the desk like he owned it. Like _he_ was the Commander of Blackwatch.

“You clean?”

The question didn’t faze Reyes. “Showered this morning.” 

Jesse cleared the desk with one sweep of his foot, then knocked his heel on the metal top. A command that Reyes didn’t take to quickly. Reyes crossed his arms over his chest and took a big breath, then angled his eyes away. Tensed his jaw, then let out all the air slowly. Tired of his bullshit, probably. Tired of all of this. The games. The chase. Jesse could relate.

“Wasting time, Reyes.”

Reyes’ face fractured for a moment, and he let slip a whisper of emotion: he rolled his eyes. Then, without a word, Reyes came forward just as Jesse stood. They were face to face, so close that Jesse could feel Reyes’ heartbeat in his own chest. His heat skittered down his skin, and Jesse couldn’t help but breathe him in. Jesse wanted to follow the gravitational pull inward and connect. Touch him, kiss him—everything. But in the end, he stood his ground.

It was Reyes who broke.

He raised a hand to cup Jesse’s face, sweep a thumb across his cheekbone—and the touch was so gentle, so _reverent_ that Jesse reacted to it like he’d been dropped into ice-cold water. He gasped and lurched back, suddenly without air in his lungs. His head swam with panic, confusion, and his eyes blew wide open. He couldn’t breathe… couldn’t think… couldn’t—

Jesse McCree reacted the only way he knew how.

With aggression.

Jesse whipped Reyes around and forced him front-first onto the desk, pinning him down with his prosthetic. If Reyes reacted to the violence, he didn’t notice it beyond the raging storm in his head. One breath, two, then three to calm his aching heart, to rid himself of the rush of adrenaline rattling his bones. He should leave. Pretend none of this happened. He was in too deep again, and whatever this was between them—it was out of control.

“Jesse…”

He looked down at Reyes’ face. It wasn’t all hard lines and deep frowns, but an expression that—he’d never seen. Soft, even a little tender, maybe, with round pleading eyes. Needing him, right then, right there. Jesse could still feel his touch on his face, warm and bright, filling in his broken seams. It was enough to shift his panic into something else: a desperate need to please.

Too bad they only had less than five minutes left.

This calculated risk was greater: ripping down Reyes’ pants and sinking to his own knees behind him. Jesse spread him apart with greedy hands and mouthed his hole. He tasted sweat and _Gabriel_ , tonguing him deep while, somewhere above him, Reyes slammed a hand on the desk and _moaned_. Filthy, uninhibited. Jesse thought about how Reyes had touched him, so sweet, so soft. He swept the flat of his tongue over Reyes, inching his hands up his thighs, to find purchase on his hips. Pulling him closer, Jesse pressed his face against him harder, taking as much as he wanted from Reyes. Another one of those moans again, chest deep, full of surrender and sin. _Fuck_.

Let Morrison find them like this, Jesse on his knees for his commander, pleasing him with everything he had, Reyes a writhing mess above him. Jesse so lost in everything, so _gone_ , that he hadn’t noticed Reyes’ hand draped over his, like they were fucking in love and this was all so goddamn easy. Jesse hooked their pinkies, and that moment between them—perfect, _right_ —was fucking _breathtaking_. 

Jesse licked and mouthed Reyes fervently and stuck a hand into his own pants to grab ahold of his achingly hard dick. He fucked into his fist, sinking the tip of his tongue into Reyes, jabbing it in as fast as he could, only to slow it down to the point he was practically savoring him. More noises from Reyes, the desk rattling underneath his quaking body. Their hands clenched so tight, fingers wrapped in and around one another, that it almost hurt.

It was all _too much_. 

Knowing Jack could burst in any second, the stranglehold he had on himself, Reyes’ soft little grunts—fuck. Jesse pumped into his fist harder, buried his face into Reyes’ ass—

The way Gabriel touched his face, was holding his hand…

Jesse came hard. His brain shut down, sight blackening for a second. Blood rushed to his ears. His body trembled with the force of it, muscles refusing to rubberband together, to get him off the floor and onto his feet. And when he finally managed it, he stumbled, catching himself on the edge of the desk. Breathed out raggedly, “Get your pants up. _Now_.”

Reyes laid there, wrecked. “Why?”

“Just—“

“What did you do, Jesse?” Reyes shot his head up. “Someone’s coming.”

Reyes put himself together just as the door burst open, and a frazzled Jack Morrison broke into the room. Jesse didn’t hang around long enough for them to sort through the confusion. He simply put on his hat, tipped it, and disappeared out into the hall.

That night, he dreamt of Reyes.

Touching him. Making love to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <33


End file.
